“Took quite a fall, didn’t we, Master Bruce?”
“And why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up”
Excerpt from a conversation between Thomas Wayne and his son Bruce, who is and will forever be known as Batman
So, two weeks and a half ago, I was in the Old City of Fès (the Medina as we say) and I visited an old friend who works there on one of the main business streets: Tala’ Kibeera. There’s Tala’ Kibeera (the Big Rise) and Tala’ Saghera (the Little Rise) and my friend Rashid works there on the big one. He’s an expert tailor and he makes some of the prettiest little shirts for guys and dolls, so if you’re ever in town, be sure to stop by Rashid’s place (if you need the address, just let me know). Anyways, to make a long story short, we visited, caught up, had some laughs and then some tea. Moroccans are sooooooo hospitable and it’s one of the things I love the most abut who they are. They make you feel right at home, comfortable, at ease. It’s such a good feeling when you’re a stranger in a strange land. So, we had some tea together, some mint tea to be exact (which I have learned to enjoy down to the very last sip). Right after that, I remember feeling a little queasy in the belly. I felt it on and off throughout the day and at night, well . . . it sorta of all came out. Yeah, it wasn’t good. I was sick for about 2 weeks and it really sucked.
It just so happens that sometimes when you go to a new country and your body is adjusting, you get a little rumbly in the tummy. But this time is was “twice the fun” (I sound like a Wrigley’s Doublemint gum commercial) being rumbly and also having the delightful experience of unwanted regurgitation. So yeah, I got sick . . . Boo Hoo! So what! I’m all better now, Al-Hamdu Lillah (Praises be to Allah) and I’m here commencing this blog once again. I know I’ve let some of you down with my temporary withdrawal from the cyber-scene, but please excuse my lack of respect for you. My mama always said (Gosh! And now I’m sounding like Forrest Gump) “Son you always have to finish what you start” so here I am folks!
The past two weeks have been great, despite the sickness. I have been resting, but I’ve been walking around and traveling by foot, by train, by car, and by bus. I’ve been able to take a TON of good pictures, which if you have Facebook, you’ll be able to see in an instant. As for those of you who are still without that cool little invention, I extend an invitation to do so. But be careful, it can be addicting!
Well, what can I say? Morocco is definitely a BEAUTIFUL country in ever sense of the word. I don’t think that any other country in the entire Arab world (well, maybe Lebanon) enjoys such a richness as does Morocco. I think the part that I love the most is the fact that I look like one of them and people consider me to be one of them. I always get asked in the street, “Can I have some of your water, Khuya?” Khuya is Dereeja (Moroccan Arabic) for brother and it’s so great that people always refer to each other with such great respect. You call each other “Khuya” or “Akhay” (both which mean brother), “Khuti” (sister), “Shreef” (said to older men, meaning “Noble One”), Lella (Grandmother, but said as a term of respect to the older women), “SaHibi” (friend) and many other names. It really creates unity, brotherhood and this kind of kinship because of the fact that you are Moroccan, thus uniting you in bonds that are stronger than blood. Now don’t get me wrong, Morocco and its people aren’t perfect! People still get mad and fight and there’s still crime, but because we don’t focus on those things, we overlook them in the sense that we know they exist, but we don’t think of them when we think of this place or that. We focus on the good, the positive, the lovely, the inspiring and the uplifting.
I just got back from Casablanca on a two-day trip there and it was okay. Too busy, too crowded, no real Medina, too expensive . . . just a lot to what I’m not down with. You know, I’ve been doing some touring lately, to the neighboring city of Meknès and now to Casablanca, and the only thing I can say is that they were alright. I remember last October when we took a tour around Morocco, to all the major cities in the Kingdom and they were nice; I mean they each had distinct and different aspects that made them attractive. But when it really comes down to it, when I really think about it and consider each of the cities and then compare them to Fès, I must say that Fès always comes out on top, hands down! I think I’ll write more about Fès in my next entry, but for now, I log off and commending you to all that is good on the earth. Is-salaamu 3aleykum wa RaHmatullahi Ta3ala wa barakaatu (May peace be upon you and may the Grace and Blessings of God [also] come to you)
Expect the Unexpected . . .
“And why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up”
Excerpt from a conversation between Thomas Wayne and his son Bruce, who is and will forever be known as Batman
So, two weeks and a half ago, I was in the Old City of Fès (the Medina as we say) and I visited an old friend who works there on one of the main business streets: Tala’ Kibeera. There’s Tala’ Kibeera (the Big Rise) and Tala’ Saghera (the Little Rise) and my friend Rashid works there on the big one. He’s an expert tailor and he makes some of the prettiest little shirts for guys and dolls, so if you’re ever in town, be sure to stop by Rashid’s place (if you need the address, just let me know). Anyways, to make a long story short, we visited, caught up, had some laughs and then some tea. Moroccans are sooooooo hospitable and it’s one of the things I love the most abut who they are. They make you feel right at home, comfortable, at ease. It’s such a good feeling when you’re a stranger in a strange land. So, we had some tea together, some mint tea to be exact (which I have learned to enjoy down to the very last sip). Right after that, I remember feeling a little queasy in the belly. I felt it on and off throughout the day and at night, well . . . it sorta of all came out. Yeah, it wasn’t good. I was sick for about 2 weeks and it really sucked.
It just so happens that sometimes when you go to a new country and your body is adjusting, you get a little rumbly in the tummy. But this time is was “twice the fun” (I sound like a Wrigley’s Doublemint gum commercial) being rumbly and also having the delightful experience of unwanted regurgitation. So yeah, I got sick . . . Boo Hoo! So what! I’m all better now, Al-Hamdu Lillah (Praises be to Allah) and I’m here commencing this blog once again. I know I’ve let some of you down with my temporary withdrawal from the cyber-scene, but please excuse my lack of respect for you. My mama always said (Gosh! And now I’m sounding like Forrest Gump) “Son you always have to finish what you start” so here I am folks!
The past two weeks have been great, despite the sickness. I have been resting, but I’ve been walking around and traveling by foot, by train, by car, and by bus. I’ve been able to take a TON of good pictures, which if you have Facebook, you’ll be able to see in an instant. As for those of you who are still without that cool little invention, I extend an invitation to do so. But be careful, it can be addicting!
Well, what can I say? Morocco is definitely a BEAUTIFUL country in ever sense of the word. I don’t think that any other country in the entire Arab world (well, maybe Lebanon) enjoys such a richness as does Morocco. I think the part that I love the most is the fact that I look like one of them and people consider me to be one of them. I always get asked in the street, “Can I have some of your water, Khuya?” Khuya is Dereeja (Moroccan Arabic) for brother and it’s so great that people always refer to each other with such great respect. You call each other “Khuya” or “Akhay” (both which mean brother), “Khuti” (sister), “Shreef” (said to older men, meaning “Noble One”), Lella (Grandmother, but said as a term of respect to the older women), “SaHibi” (friend) and many other names. It really creates unity, brotherhood and this kind of kinship because of the fact that you are Moroccan, thus uniting you in bonds that are stronger than blood. Now don’t get me wrong, Morocco and its people aren’t perfect! People still get mad and fight and there’s still crime, but because we don’t focus on those things, we overlook them in the sense that we know they exist, but we don’t think of them when we think of this place or that. We focus on the good, the positive, the lovely, the inspiring and the uplifting.
I just got back from Casablanca on a two-day trip there and it was okay. Too busy, too crowded, no real Medina, too expensive . . . just a lot to what I’m not down with. You know, I’ve been doing some touring lately, to the neighboring city of Meknès and now to Casablanca, and the only thing I can say is that they were alright. I remember last October when we took a tour around Morocco, to all the major cities in the Kingdom and they were nice; I mean they each had distinct and different aspects that made them attractive. But when it really comes down to it, when I really think about it and consider each of the cities and then compare them to Fès, I must say that Fès always comes out on top, hands down! I think I’ll write more about Fès in my next entry, but for now, I log off and commending you to all that is good on the earth. Is-salaamu 3aleykum wa RaHmatullahi Ta3ala wa barakaatu (May peace be upon you and may the Grace and Blessings of God [also] come to you)
Expect the Unexpected . . .
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